The Darkest Light
by Crystallion12
Summary: [SPOILERS for S1/Finale of Trollhunters] - Jim finds himself in the darkest place known to both troll and man. The Darklands prove to be equivalent to hell. Although a White Eclipse hangs ominously in the dark skies above, that night was one of the Trollhunter's darkest... [Rated K Plus, but consider it a Low T for themes of terror, references. Minor violence.] [One-Shot.]


**The Darkest Light**

 **Author's Note/AN:**

Hello, my fellow Trollhunters! How are you? Excited for Season 2 of our beloved show?

Well, I'll keep this short- I know most people won't bother reading these if it's just a huge clump of text. XD

Oh- and I do apologise if anything's out of place… I recently finished the show- and it left me in little pieces of fangirl. :'( / :'), because I can't decide what is stronger to my inner fangirl. XD

I have also included a little Headcanon out of no-where; a random plot device, if you will.

 **There are** _ **SPOILERS**_ **ahead! You have been warned.**

 **WARNING (for Content):** _Now, yes, I have rated this K+, but, part of me considers it a low T. It could be, for the lighter-hearted, rather disturbing- read at your own discretion. However, I will say this- most of it is just mentioned, in a sense. I do not go into detail. But, for a wider grasp:_ This piece contains an array of dark themes- terror, gross Darklands, paranoia, minor gore and death (although none is shown- ONLY references), and a little something else that only fits with all that- no pairings or sexual content in the slightest. There's no room for love in the Darklands.

 **DISCLAIMER:** Regrettably… I do not own _Trollhunters_. They and their characters belong solely to DreamWorks Animation and Guillermo Del Toro.

Enjoy!

Trollhunters! UNITE!

-Crystallion12

 **-XxX-x-XxX-**

Darkness. Blood. Terror. Death. Insanity.

Vicious, snarling trolls lurked in the corners of caves, claws scraping stone as they awaited unassuming prey to wander by- waiting for a carnage to be beheld like a feast. In the Darklands, after all, there was no food- so trolls were it and all. There was no water to go around- unless, of course, you included the thick yet runny Silverwater trapped under sheets of solid and firm yet delicate black ice. Which he guessed probably also killed you.

The Darklands- they were fittingly named, and served their purpose well, as a savage and unforgiving prison. The air, tainted by icy smoke, scented with a reeking, terrible smell of blood and disease and fear- even miles away from any source.

It was no place for anyone- the innocent, or the evil, or, the Trollhunter.

Specifically, not an innocent teenage boy of a Trollhunter.

 _I thought Gunmar would be my biggest issue here_ , he had bitterly thought, _but maybe it won't be, after all_. Later the Trollhunter decided he would just cope with the stench- try and get used to it… Try and survive- and not just through the parade of enemies. His situation was met with discordant devastation; quickly he found himself in agony and stress, anxiety, and the loss of hope; depressed, maybe, but he found that term a permanent one for _anyone_ in the Darklands. No big deal…

The only comfort, was his Amulet- in a way. For one, it did not- _could_ not- disappear, which came more useful than it did providing consequence. It kept him slightly warmer and defended from the harsh, bleak environment that was terribly unfamiliar and frightening- he had quickly adapted to being used to the lack of 'fresh' air. Also, in a way, they could talk to each other. When he was specifically scared, or confused, it gave a little sting or a bump, almost- just a little push- and when his hope began to fade for the umpteenth time, it would glow, true and bright- although red as blood, rather than blue, it was a reminder of _who he was_ \- a reminder of truth.

This, however, did not stop him from thinking. He wondered just _how_ he was still alive- the last drop of water he'd drank was only a variant of Earth's key resource- the lifeforce, essentially, of humans. The water had been tinted purple- maybe it had been taken from crystals- not that there were particularly any that looked inviting.

Most of the land in the Darklands was made of pure black stone, jutting out in daggers of rock, sharp edged and gleaming with unspoken malice, and even for the few crystals, their glow was ghostly and haunting, usually a toxic green- he'd also seen the rare red or purple- whereas in Trollmarket, it was always a welcome and beautiful treasure…

Trollmarket… Home… Arcadia… _Home_ …

Through bloodshot and weary eyes, he shook his head and concentrated his focus; he had to be as alert as he could be… He had to be…

 _Rule One… Always be afraid…_

He tried to remember.

 _Rule Two… Always finish the fight…?_

 _Rule Three…_

Jim paused and groaned in sudden pain, bringing back a vivid memory, one of the many trials he had suffered; but, he did remember just how he got out of it, too…

Ah, yes.

 _Rule Three; when in doubt, always kick them in the gronk-nuks._

A half-healed wound on his hip stung wildly- _curse the unarmoured sections of his body_ \- and he was certain it had started bleeding once more. He whimpered, quite like a wounded dog or beast, not daring to look, and went straight to seeking shelter; was the _White Eclipse_ coming? He wasn't sure… But… It _had_ to be near… _Destruction and death_ _were near_ …

The _White Eclipse_ ; he was fortunate to have been under the roof of a cave when it first happened since he had arrived. The moon- at least, that's what he thought it was- was it even that? Perhaps it was not in a 'sky', so to speak? He was not sure- but the black (which somehow stood out among the rest of the Darklands) sphere became outlined with a ring of blinding white light, instead of the usual white-green hue, just once a month, roughly (he hoped it was- it was his only method of estimated time tracking). It was a light that could sear and burn- and encase in stone almost any troll in existence- although, clearly Gunmar hadn't perished yet, so how did _he_ avoid it?

At least Jim was _human_ , in that aspect. That didn't make it safe- _not at all_. So he too hid from it. He feared what he saw after it passed- anyone would.

The victims didn't necessarily _just_ turn to stone- they turned to pure, obsidian black stone, cracked with shocking white- they almost blended with the terrain; and if you listened closely, you could hear unearthly, deathly moans or roars of anguish and agony, hollow and echoing within- unable to be saved, and unable to die…

To suffer until the end of time.

He shuddered as he padded sluggishly into a discreet nook, overhung, and surrounded by dark stone. He curled into a little ball against the narrow, claustrophobic corner, intent on becoming as small as he could in the space. Maybe it'd help him forget this was all happening for a few moments. The insanity and peril of his dire situation- the dread latched onto the unavoidable confrontations before him, his perhaps inevitable doom. What had he been _thinking_? He couldn't do this…

Jim blinked away what he could classify as tears-that-attempted-to-escape-but-unable-to-really-form (or, what happens when you want to cry, but are dehydrated and lacking in salt… same thing) and swallowed dryly, for a lump had uncomfortably scraped into his throat. It took a lot of effort and willpower to push it down.

His mother. Toby. Blinky. Claire. Draal. Even Vendel and NotEnrique- everyone he loved. A painful lurch made him feel sick- he would include Arrrgh, but…

 _Oh, GOD, don't think about that… Of all the times… No… NO… Arrrgh…_

Jim curled inwards tighter, and allowed the pain of his wounds, his hunger, his thirst, and finally his grief, to blind his senses…

The Darklands went blacker than ever before.

-XxX-x-XxX-

Why had he done this? Jim stood back before the Killahead Bridge, lost in thought, eyeing the dark structure- the gateway to hell, in a metaphorical sense.

He glanced at the _White Eclipse_ , hanging menacingly in the black gloom- how had he not thought of it before? It was the perfect opportunity… He could get home, and no sinner could stop him, unless they wanted to be _felled_.

Jim activated the portal to Heartstone Trollmarket- little Enrique on his hip- and he willingly stepped through, glancing back once with a smirk.

"See you again soon, Gunmar."

He fell through and felt gravity flip him- he landed on his knees, Enrique clutched to his chest safely. The baby cooed quietly, looking at him with big, wide, innocent eyes. Jim smiled wearily and stroked his head, standing with a slight tremble; odd.

He had thought it would be worse- not that he was complaining.

Feeling decently confident and almost bursting with a combination of excitement and nervousness, he strode forward purposefully, opening the sealed gate, stepping out into the Market. After a moment of hesitation Jim stood back, pressing against the wall. He thought carefully. No one was exactly _expecting_ him, as far as he knew- and he'd been gone a while- who knew what could have happened all this time he'd been gone…

Expressions aside, that could be a good place to start- who _would_ know?

He could go and try finding Blinky- or- Vendel, maybe? At least Vendel wouldn't potentially faint or cause an enormous scene…

That stung. Yes, he loved Blinky more than the old leader, admittedly, but what was wiser?

Enrique's little hands reached up, grabbing at his chin. He winced as the baby's fingers glazed over a cut marking his jaw- this wasn't getting him anywhere.

Well, the most logical thing to do, he decided, was go to Vendel. Deal with any immediate issues. Get Enrique safe and checked over. Then he could sort out the mess he'd stupidly stumbled into.

He began his trip to the Heartstone, where Vendel was most likely to be- he took an abstract, abandoned path, the hairs raised tersely on his neck; he could hear trolls moving through the stone, could smell their (compared to the Darklands, it was also quite pleasant and clean) odours, see the bright and neon lights of the shop signs. His eyes usually straying to gaze affectionately towards the familiar, dazzling colours of the crystals in the Market, he found he suddenly loved this place more than ever.

It was all so comforting, after being tormented by darkness for so _long_ … He prayed it would last. Even what he used to find irritating or awkward, or nerve-wracking; now it was just another thing that he hadn't realised was so _right_ to him.

Enrique was mostly asleep by now, despite the collision of new terrain.

Odd.

Jim would have expected the baby to be restless and wide-eyed; he'd never seen anything like this… Right?

His pace quickened- although he wasn't certain who, his ears had just picked up a murmur of voices- _familiar_ voices… His friends… Jim's hand left its reassuring place on his pocket, grasping the Amulet of Daylight- Daylight and Eclipse? He wasn't quite sure now. Maybe Blinky would know.

All Jim knew was that it was almost a lifeline- scratch that- it _was_.

The Trollhunter reached the door, about to open it, to see Toby and Blinky and Claire and Draal and everyone again-

 _Thud._

He frowned and halted. That was… Odd…

 _Thud._

Odder than anything he'd experienced yet- what _was_ that?

 _GGRRRRRRRROOOAAA-_

-XxX-x-XxX-

Jim screamed, bolting awake, thoughts racing. Grabbing his sword, his heart ripped in two grieving pieces from the lurking nightmare as he dodged the Gumm-Gumm's first attack- the first that was bound to be only one of many ahead of him. He broke into a roll and slashed upwards, wincing as a long, steely claw ripped at his arm- he was alone in this.

He should have never left them…

 _I'm so sorry, guys. Please forgive me. I'll always love you all._

Jim glared fiercely at the roaring troll, with its raging red eyes and bloody fangs- a nauseating concoction of blacks and reds.

 _One day, I'll make that dream reality._

 **-XxX-x-XxX-**


End file.
